Waiting for Wyatt (Red Dirt #1) (8 page)

I was so distraught over Chewy I’d failed to see the new occupants of the pen. Two old chocolate labs lay on the cement with their bodies intertwined together as they kept their heads down.

“Did you come up with those names?” I slipped a look in his direction, but he stayed focused on the brown dogs in front of us.

“Yes.”

“Did you name the others too?”

“Some.” He glanced over at me with that answer. “And yes, I like Will Ferrell.”

“What? I didn’t ask about Will Ferrell.”

“I assumed with all the questions that would be your next one. Did I name the car-chasing dog Ricky Bobby because I like Will Ferrell?”

“No.” I tried to frown at him, hiding the smile I got because he’d volunteered something without my asking.

“Really?” He studied me for a moment, then turned back to the pen in front of us. He took another drink and remained silent.

“So Daisy and Gatsby. What’s their story?”

He didn’t respond immediately. I braced myself, waiting for his deep voice to share another tale filled with heartbreaking details. “Well, the owner just died. The family didn’t want them either. They left the dogs in the house for three weeks before the neighbors figured it out.”

“They just left them?”

“Yes, and went back to Arkansas.”

“What did they think would happen to the dogs locked up in the house? It doesn’t make sense. That’s just . . . just so
wrong
.”

“I know.” His eyes softened with compassion toward my anger. “Some people are just selfish bastards, and it’s the animals who pay the price.”

I focused on the two dogs that morphed into one pile of chocolate fur. Each face was covered in gray hair that reflected their age. They seemed lost. They seemed alone. They seemed confused as to why they were left behind by the only person who had ever loved them.

Daisy and Gatsby asked why in a place where the question was forbidden. I closed my eyes for a moment. Each time his gruff voice told me a story, it never got any easier. Yet I continued to ask questions, knowing each answer came with heartbreaking consequences.

“Come on.” Wyatt touched my shoulder briefly and my eyes flew open. I saw a flash of tenderness before he shut it down. “Get Charlie out. I’ll get Gus.”

“Gus?”

Wyatt didn’t reply and left toward the exit, carrying his Styrofoam cup. I went to the end of the aisle and Charlie jumped so high he fell over backward. I opened the gate and the spotted dog flew into my arms. As I carried him outside, Charlie did his best to lick the carefully applied makeup off my face. Wyatt came out the front door of his trailer, clutching a white and brown Jack Russell.

I froze right in place. He was good at making the reaction happen, confusing me to the point that he rendered me speechless. And Wyatt did just that as he got closer and closer to where I stood with Charlie.

He was so incredibly cute when he allowed it to show. Wyatt seemed like a different person in this very moment. He seemed almost normal with the little dog tucked under his arm and the cup in the other hand.

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the feelings. I wanted to help him. I wanted to peel back every layer until I knew everything about him. But now I felt those other complicated thoughts. The slow burn of attraction flickered inside of me.

Taking a deep breath, I did my best to push it aside as he joined me on the path to the fenced-in play area. “So that’s Gus?”

“Yes.”

“What’s his story? He seems normal.” As normal as you right now, I wanted to add.

“Things are not always what they seem.” Wyatt scratched the dog under the chin, leaving my question unanswered.

We placed both of the little animals in the play area. Charlie pounced at Gus. They took off in a blur, around and around through the grass. I laughed, watching Charlie. He loved everyone. Diana would find him a home soon. It shouldn’t take much to get him adopted. I wondered if she tried or if Wyatt asked her to keep Charlie longer for me.

I sneaked a glance in his direction. He had a faint smile on his face and yet the sadness still radiated off his cheeks. It stayed just a little on the surface even on a day like today. This strange and rare day he’d opened up a few of his layers.

“Hold my drink.” I shoved it toward Wyatt. He took the white cup from my hand as I went running inside the pen. I chased the two dogs in circles. Laughing, I let them attack me down to the grass. They made me happier than I’d been in a long time. The adrenaline rush of doing something good was almost as intoxicating as the one I used to get while running. With the knee problems, I hadn’t been able to do that in a really long time.

As I rested in the grass, Gus attacked my hair, tugging it softly. I pulled him in a bear hug as Charlie jumped on top of me. I glanced over at Wyatt. A faint grin lingered on his lips. I crawled back to a standing position and chased the two little dogs to the other side of the pen.

I slipped another look over at Wyatt. He followed me with his green eyes. I knew he did the whole time as I acted like a complete idiot in the pen. It made those feelings happen again. I craved his attention. In this moment, with mysterious Wyatt, it felt special because I doubt he tossed much of anything out to the world. I doubt he gave many people the look he was giving me.

“Come in here with us.” I gave him a soft grin.

“Nah.” He shook his head.

He stayed firm in his spot. I got up and went back out to stand next to him. It was driving me crazy not to ask him questions. He gave an inch, and I wanted to run across the dang county with it. Slowly. I had to approach him slowly even though I really wanted to touch him. I wanted to touch his warm skin. I wanted to wrap myself around his body.

The truth is, I still knew virtually nothing about him. My feelings had progressed from questions to craving a full-blown physical attack. I needed to slow back down.

“How old are you?” The question slipped out.

Wyatt tilted his green eyes down in my direction, but he didn’t answer. He looked back inside the play area where Gus had Charlie tackled to the ground. He muttered in his raspy voice, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“You don’t look that old.”

“We both get that a lot.”

“
We?
” He looked down at me again. I didn’t think about how I’d phrased that answer. I was so used to Blaire and I practically being the same person.

“Oh. I guess I haven’t mentioned it before. I have a twin sister.”

“There’s two of you?”

“I guess you could say that. We look alike, but we are
very
different.”

“Does she ask as many annoying personal questions as you?”

“Annoying personal questions?
Really?
” A flash of anger got the best of me, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming out as actual words. “I’m not asking unreasonable things, Wyatt. I just asked how old you are. I didn’t ask if you have a girlfriend like the crazy kind that will show up at my apartment because I talked to you. Or if your life is complicated because you have, like, cancer or something and you’re hiding out in the woods from everyone. How old are you? It’s a simple, reasonable question. Waiters in restaurants even ask it when you order a drink.”

I regretted my outburst the moment the second word jumped off my lips. This wasn’t how I’d planned for our conversation to go today. Wyatt had made my thoughts flow out like verbal diarrhea, killing all the progress I’d made with the guy.

His lips fell into that familiar thin line. His eyes went back to being razor sharp. Wyatt’s body morphed into a stiff and unfriendly lump of coal, ready to burn everything around him.

“I’m sorry.” I took a step back, giving him some space. “I didn’t mean to attack you. I’m really sorry.”

Wyatt glanced toward the kennel building for a moment, then back at me. He was contemplating storming off from our conversation. I read the idea written across his angry face.

“I’m twenty-two.” The words scratched from his lips like he’d swallowed one of those swords at the circus and had to cough it back up. “No girlfriend. No cancer.”

The expression on his face spoke to my very heart, beating fast in my chest. Those simple words seemed to break him.

I wanted to touch him. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted to pull his hard body into my arms. It was a strange mix of compassion and hardcore lust. Instead of touching Wyatt, I took another physical step backward, giving the beat-down man his space.

“I’m glad you don’t have cancer.”

“Emma, you don’t have a very good pokerface.”

“What do you mean?”

He let out a deep breath. “Look, if you’re gonna keep coming here, I’m just saying this upfront: don’t go home dreaming up any ideas. We are not getting involved with each other. And you’re not here to fix me.”

“So now you’re self-confident enough to think that I’m pining away for you as I fall sleep every night. We just met, Wyatt. I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Your face is transparent as hell, okay? I’m just warning you. I am not available for something like that. My life is really complicated. I’m just trying to make sure you understand before feelings get hurt and there’s crying and shit.”

“I get it, okay? Complicated. No personal questions. I’m not going home and writing your name in hearts or anything.” I smiled at him, trying to salvage the afternoon, trying to recover the damage, trying to pretend his stupid comments didn’t bother me. “I could just be your friend, you know. Could you do that much?”

“I don’t know, Emma.” His raspy voice hung on my name again.

“You know what I think? I think your heart is too big for your own good. That’s why you get like this. You’re overanalyzing it all. We can be friends, Wyatt.”

“You don’t know anything. Don’t be twisting shit up in your head and making me into something I’m not. I just want to be left alone.”

“I don’t have to twist things up. I see it. You don’t have the pokerface you think you have either. And no one likes to be alone. You like it that I’m here. Just admit it.”

“You are here because you won’t stay away. You show up here, knocking on my door, making me feel guilty. Girls like you are used to
always
getting their way. No one ever tells you no. It doesn’t work that way with me.”

“I’m here because you invited me back, you jerk!” I spat at him. “You think hurting my feelings will make me leave?”

“I hurt your
feelings
? You rebound faster than Charlie, running around here, sticking your nose into things, no matter how many times I tell you to mind your own damn business.”

“Why are you such an awful person?”

“Do you think asking a hundred annoying questions will make me finally answer one?” He glared back at me as we slipped into a competitive stare.

“Yes.”

“The answer is no. There are things you don’t know about me. And I don’t want you to know them. I am not some do-gooder here who takes care of a bunch of mutts. I’m the bad guy. You need to get that through your blonde head. And . . . I’m taking back my invite.”

“You can’t take it back.”

“I can, and I just did. Go home, Emma.” His voice bit hard on my name.

“Wyatt, come on.”

“Go say goodbye to Charlie. Then get your shit and leave. We’re done here. Don’t come back.”

With that, Wyatt opened the play area and Gus came trotting out. I stood frozen in place, watching the backside of the most complicated and irritating person I’d ever met. He was no bruised or rotten apple. Wyatt was an onion; the nasty purple kind that ruined everything.

I pulled Charlie out and carried him toward the kennel. His giant ears stood alert, looking for Gus. Hugging him tighter to my chest, I felt sad and angry. I couldn’t say goodbye to Charlie forever. Not yet anyway, and not because Wyatt had decided to have a temper tantrum.

“Charlie. Don’t listen to him.” I scratched behind his brown ears and then under the gray chin. His sweet eyes watched me talk. “I’ll be back to see you again.”

Closing the gate, my flip-flops clicked as I walked over to his trailer. Pain twisted under my knee, but I ignored each stabbing jolt through my leg.

I knew he watched my every move from behind the thick curtains. Stomping all the way up the steps, I came to a halt in front of the aluminum door. I wanted to snatch the handle and barge into his cave. Let him react to that kind of probing into his life.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Wyatt Caulfield,” I shouted loud at his presence just on the other side of the thin wall. “I know you can hear me. I’m coming back.”